Safe
by FluentSarcasm
Summary: Olitz One Shot Post 3x17. Originally posted before the finale on my blog, bringing it over here. It's essentially based upon my (woefully incorrect) post-3x17 spec that Liv doesn't know Fitz didn't go to the church & thinks when the bomb goes off that he's dead. Smuffy because it's what I WANTED to see happen, which of course absolutely means it did not. (Not even close). Enjoy!


He demanded the room cleared as soon as she entered and he saw her face. Cyrus tried to talk him out of it but Fitz waved him off and as soon as the door was shut she was in his arms.

She clung to him desperately, the mewling sounds coming from her throat foreign to her own ears as her arms tightened around his neck and she pressed her body flush against his, drinking from his lips like a starving woman stumbling upon a mirage in the desert.

Tears stung her cheeks as they kissed, and when he dipped down to wrap his arm around her and pull her up against him, she sobbed into his mouth, pressing hot feverish kisses against his lips.

"Livvie," he murmured, clearly concerned by her obvious distress, his hands soothing over her curves as he lifted her onto the sit room table and pulled back to peer into big, haunted brown eyes overflowing with tears.

"No talking," she breathed, spreading her legs to pull him in between them, reaching for his fly.

"Livvie," he said again, drawing in a sharp breath when she slid her hand into his pants to wrap fingers around his length, already hot and hard and aching for her. Despite his obvious confusion and concern, all it ever took from her was one touch and he was ready. It'd always been like that for them. When he tried to step away and pull her hands out of his pants, she shrugged them off of her and glared up at him in frustration.

"I thought you were dead!" she snapped in an attempt to admonish him like she usually did. But she couldn't muster the energy and her face crumpled. She began to weep, low keening noises she'd never heard before, and dropped her head forward to bury her face in his chest. When his arms came around her and pulled her tighter into his embrace, she sobbed with relief, clutching the lapels of his suit jacket in her fists while he stroked her back and pressed kisses to her forehead and whispered soothing words of love and comfort in her ear.

"What happened?" he asked. "Tell me, Livvie."

She loved when he called her Livvie like that, so soft and sweet and safe, but she was shaking, literally shaking, and her heart ached because he'd never seen her like this, she'd never let herself be this vulnerable in front of him before, and she was so embarrassed and ashamed and desperate for him to just hold her and love her and never let her go. "She killed him," Liv whispered, forcing herself to say the words and accept them as truth.

His hand stilled on her back. "What? Who?"

"My f-f-father," Liv's voice broke as she tilted her head up to look into Fitz's face. "She sh-shot him. At my office. He – he died." Speaking the words made her feel sick, the room spinning so violently she squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed her nose against Fitz's shirt, deeply inhaling his scent, using it in an attempt to calm herself. She just couldn't get the image of her father out of her head. She'd have nightmares of him on that floor, she was sure, for the rest of her life. She didn't even think that she could step foot into her office after what occurred there in the last 24 hours. She wanted to set the entire building on fire and watch it burn.

"Oh Livvie," his hand stroked her cheek, brushing the tears away, and he leaned down to press a kiss against her forehead. "I'm so sorry."

"I was at the hospital when I saw the explosion on TV and then. Then I thought – I thought she killed you too." She dissolved into sobs again, tucking her face back into his shirt as he held her.

"Nothing's going to happen to me, Livvie." He whispered, leaning his head down to press his lips against her ear. "And we're going to find her. We're going to stop her. Your dad won't have died in vain. I promise you."

He was so certain in that moment, so strong, so soothing, and God – she loved him so much she was ill with it. The moment she'd seen the news and thought – if her mother had succeeded in killing both her father and the love of her life all in one day, Liv knew she'd never recover. She'd never survive it. She'd barely survived his assassination attempt last time. The thought alone of anyone succeeding was enough to paralyze her; she couldn't even fathom actually _living_ it. The only thing in the world that felt real and worth anything to her anymore was this man and the love that they had for each other.

So she found the words.

"I love you," she murmured into his shirt, imprinting the phrase into the fabric with her lips. She couldn't bring herself to look at him as she told him, but when she brought her head up after, she saw the tears unshed in his eyes and managed a watery smile in response. "If you die, I die."

"I'm not gonna die, Livvie," he stroked her cheek, leaning down to kiss her, drawing her lower lip between his. "I'm gonna win this election. I'm gonna divorce Mellie. And I'm gonna marry you. In that order."

Any other day, she'd roll her eyes and tell him to stop being ridiculous – not this divorce shit again. But not today. Not after everything she's lost, everything she's sacrificed. No more. Because Fitz needed to get out of that marriage. She saw what living a lie had done to her father. She'd be damned if she'd let that happen to Fitz. He deserved to be happy. And so did she. She was tired of being miserable. She was tired of being scared. Life was too short and being alone wasn't worth it.

It was time to put their long-gestating plan into action. The thought alone thrilled her.

Yanking Fitz by his tie, Olivia pulled him into a deep, hungry, soul-stirring kiss, carding her fingers through his silky curls as she arched her body into his. "Good."

"I can barely remember my life before you were in it," Fitz murmured softly as they rested their foreheads against one another. "Something was always missing…" Grabbing her hand with his, he touched his chest over his heart before bringing her fingers up to his mouth, pressing a warm kiss to the center of her palm. "I didn't know what until the day we met."

"When you told Cyrus to fire me," she laughed softly, so grateful for this little moment of peace, when it was just the two of them amidst the chaos and she finally felt and truly believed that they would make it out the other side; when she finally believed that Vermont was no longer just possible – it was inevitable.

Because she was going to make damn sure it happened.

They were going to grow old together in that house. She was going to teach their children and their grandchildren how to make jam. Nothing mattered more than that.

"My attempt at trying to remain faithful to a woman who didn't want me," he said with a tinge of bitterness, his eyes focusing on something in the distance behind her. That was another discussion for another day, not now. Now was about the two of them, not Mellie. Liv placed her hand on his cheek and brought his gaze back to hers, immediately mollifying him. He smiled and kissed her in gratitude. "But I couldn't deny what I felt every time I looked at you. You were undeniable, Livvie. You still are."

She was literally addicted to the way he looked at her, like she was the most perfect and precious thing in the world, and briefly wondered why she had ever thought she could walk away from him, from this – from _them_. "Don't deny me now," she pleaded, pulling him down for another earth-shattering kiss, whimpering when his hand cupped her breast through her blouse, plumping the flesh in his palm. She reached for his fly again and he murmured her name in between kisses, his hand dancing along her waist, her stomach clenching in its wake as he deftly unzipped her zipper and slid inside to stroke her slick heat.

"_Now_," she whined, jerking his throbbing length in her hand, swallowing his moans with moans of her own as they kissed and blindly stripped her pants. She leaned her elbows back on the table, angling her pelvis up as he angled his down and mated their bodies in one long, fluid thrust. Filled with him seated so deeply inside of her, Liv felt tears prick the back of her eyes, sighing happily when he cupped her face and nibbled her lower lip between his; slurping her tongue into his mouth, drowning out her whimpers as they frantically grinded their pelvis together, mouths kissing and hands stroking and bodies making love to one another right there on the table in the middle of the situation room.

Coherence was lost, the heat building in her stomach turning into huge knots of passion and desire and _fuck_! _This_ was why she'd broken up with Edison, why she bid goodbye to Jake and why she always – _always_ – came back to Fitz: this indescribable, inescapable, incomparably sublime ecstasy and oneness she experienced only with him, the only time she ever felt truly whole or happy or safe or complete was in these feverish moments, with him moving inside her, moaning her name, gazing down at her as if she hung the sun and moon in the sky for him every morning and every night.

Olivia would never love another man as completely and endlessly as Fitz, and as they kissed and moved together, she felt something inside of her click into place: the last missing piece of her heart she had so stubbornly and stupidly kept from him; and breathy declarations of "I love you, I love you, I love you" fell from her lips to the beat of each thrust.

Her chest tight, the tension coiling within her was nearly unbearable; and she clung to him, legs wrapped high around his waist, fingers raking over his scalp as they kissed, lips sucking, teeth nipping, tongues twisting. His hand slid between their bodies, seeking her clit, stroking her the way she loved, the way only he could; and she sobbed his name against his mouth as she came, her slick walls fluttering and flexing around him, forcefully commanding his release moments later, his body hard and tense above her as they writhed and shook together, wrapped around one another, collapsing boneless and breathless with exhaustion.

She felt so magnificently perfect and safe and _alive_ she wanted to weep all over again. She was home. She was here. With Fitz.

He kissed her lovingly, languidly exploring her mouth with his tongue before pulling away. Liv blushed as he tucked himself back into his trousers, smiling when he handed her her underwear and helped her step back into her pants. She adjusted his tie and leaned into him as his arms circled her waist, palming her ass to pull her pelvis flush with his. She gazed up at him with stars in her eyes, despite the horror of this day and these past few weeks and, well, her entire life – she felt so hopeful. She saw into his very soul in that moment, saw the magnitude of his love for her and felt overwhelmed by the gift him coming into her life had been. After everything that they had been through – here they were, still more in love than ever; and she'd _never_ felt more confident or sure of that love than she did now.

He leaned down, slow and steady, and warmth pooled in her belly at the look in his eye. His lips hovered over hers a beat, their breath mingling, noses touching, and Liv leaned further into him when her knees weakened as she inhaled his scent. Then he kissed her softly, murmuring deep in his throat as they sank into it, and when he pulled away she felt dizzy and lightheaded with love for him.

"Hi," he said when she finally opened her eyes to look at him again.

She grinned, giggling a little despite herself. "Hi."

Her smile fell when she saw how seriously he was regarding her, his fingers tracing the delicate line of her chin, his thumb sweeping over her plump lower lip.

"I love you so much, Livvie."

Her heart ached, and her hands curled around his biceps as her stomach dipped from the emotion in his voice. "I love you," she whispered, and kissed him again just because she could. She closed her eyes and luxuriated in his embrace, taking another moment to enjoy it and to imagine a lifetime of moments just like it.

"We're gonna be okay," he said against her lips after several long minutes of contented silence. When she opened her eyes to look at him, his were bright, open, full of love.

For the first time ever – she finally let herself believe him.

She was home.

She was safe.


End file.
